She suddenly turned, almost throwing me off balance. We could have recorded a broken jar that night, but that was nothing compared to the shock on her face.
“Are you okay?” I must have startled her.
I watched as she calmed down.
“Yes,” she collected the jar and turned back to the counter.
“You’ve been acting quite strange since this morning,” I decided to let her know what was on my mind.
“Me?” She touched her chest.
“Yes, you.”
She made a face and focused on the task at hand.
“I think you are overthinking it.” She replied.
“Well, I doubt I am.”
“Dinner’s ready.” She came out of the kitchen.
We ate our food in silence. Afterwards, I gave her the Bonsai tree.
“It’s beautiful,” she slowly smiled after all this time. I was truly relieved.
“What does it mean? It’s art, isn’t it?”
“The client said it is symbolic of patience and discipline. It is also believed to bring good luck and prosperity.”
“It’s lovely. Are you sure I can take it with me?” Her eyes twinkled.
“A hundred percent.” I chuckled at her innocence.
“Thank you,” she beamed a smile.
“But I want something in return.”
She looked puzzled.
“I want you to accompany me somewhere tomorrow.”
Chapter Nine
Fiona
Today was the day Christian and I set aside time to let him see my painting. I talked about it singularly, but whenever Christian mentioned it, he gave off the impression that I had a collection.
I did have a collection, but nothing compared to the butterfly in the painting. The butterfly at the time of the painting was done to signify freedom. In a way, I was free, given how I was fired from my waitress job then.
With too much free time on my hands, I made the painting to signify how free I felt. Now, looking at the painting, it has come full circle. I am happy now. My job with Christian felt secure.
I was slowly freeing myself from that worry. I didn’t wake up every morning wondering if this was the day Christian was going to fire me. I had come a long way.
When Christian saw the painting, he would realize what a lovely painter I was. He’d see that I was really multi-talented.
The doorbell rang, and I threw a white piece of fabric over the canvas and hurried to the door. I took a deep breath before opening it, a smile on my face as Christian stood there with a bottle of wine in his hands.
“Hi,” I greeted and moved to the side to let him in.
“Thank you for having me and showing me your lovely painting.”
“You don’t know that it’s lovely,” I said and ushered him onto the sofa. The entire event was starting to feel very formal, even though we wore very casual clothes. I was wearing sweatpants and a white shirt.
Christian was wearing a black shirt and black shorts. The baseball cap he had on now sat next to him on the sofa.
“If it’s done by you, then it’s the prettiest thing in the world.”
It was amazing how he was able to pretend that he could see the canvas.
“And you have nothing to worry about; it’s just me.”
I nodded because he was right. It wasn’t like he was an art appraiser. It was just Christian. And that was the reason why I was so nervous. He was Christian, and there was nothing just about that.
I left the living room and returned to the kitchen to grab two wine glasses. When I returned, Christian was now aware of the canvas because he was looking directly at it.
“Alright,” he said after I poured out the wine. “Time to see it.”
“Promise not to laugh.”
